I wrote this poem in 2008.
Friends
My diet isn't working
The pounds upward, they creep.
Do you think it could be caused
By the company I keep?
There's my neighbor, Betty Crocker
She's really quite a gal.
I invite her over every day
She is my special pal.
Mrs. Paul lives down the street
And stops by whenever she can.
But if she's busy, I just call
The Gorton's Fisherman.
Hungry Jack and Peter Pan
And those cute little Keebler Elves
Keep me company when I'm lonely
They live there on my shelves.
Oh, and I can't forget my relatives
They moved here from 'Carolina.
They just showed up and wouldn't leave
My Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima.
Sara Lee stops in from time to time
And along with her she carries.
Her husband, Famous Amos
And their bad boys Ben and Jerry!
So I guess you see my problem
I now must make amends.
If I'm ever going to lose this weight
I need some different friends.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Rus-Joy Inn
My first job was as a waitress at the Rus-Joy Inn in Manchester, MD. It was actually in Melrose, but you'd be hard pressed to find Melrose on any map and even if you lived in Melrose, your mailing address was Manchester.
The Rus-Joy Inn was a locally-owned family restaurant that was famous for their fried chicken and their family-style way of serving. If your family came for dinner and you ordered the fried chicken, it was served on a platter and the sides you chose came in large bowls for everyone to pass and share.
I started there in 1972 at the age of 15. My pay was .60 cents an hour plus tips. I loved working there and was able to save enough money to buy my first car a few years later. I have many fond memories of my time there, but one thing stands out over the rest.
In 1972, most waitresses wore uniforms. If you're too young to remember them you may have to Google "waitress uniforms of the 70's" to get an idea of what I'm talking about. I wore the two-piece pantsuit uniforms. They were very light, made from nylon-type material. This particular day I was wearing a uniform I had made. The restaurant was closed and I was cleaning up before I could clock out and go home. I was sweeping the floor and thought it was getting awfully hard for me to move and just as I looked down, my boss walked in through the swinging doors from the kitchen to see me standing there...with the broom in my hand....and my uniform pants down around my feet!! I don't know who was more embarrassed, but I was mortified. He quickly did an about face and I retrieved my pants from the floor and refastened my zipper. I quickly finished cleaning and hightailed it home. We never spoke of that day.
I learned so much from that first job. How to manage money, how to deal with a wide variety of people, how to make a milkshake and most importantly....to always, always sew a hook and eye closure at the top of your zipper when you make uniform pants.
The Rus-Joy Inn was a locally-owned family restaurant that was famous for their fried chicken and their family-style way of serving. If your family came for dinner and you ordered the fried chicken, it was served on a platter and the sides you chose came in large bowls for everyone to pass and share.
I started there in 1972 at the age of 15. My pay was .60 cents an hour plus tips. I loved working there and was able to save enough money to buy my first car a few years later. I have many fond memories of my time there, but one thing stands out over the rest.
In 1972, most waitresses wore uniforms. If you're too young to remember them you may have to Google "waitress uniforms of the 70's" to get an idea of what I'm talking about. I wore the two-piece pantsuit uniforms. They were very light, made from nylon-type material. This particular day I was wearing a uniform I had made. The restaurant was closed and I was cleaning up before I could clock out and go home. I was sweeping the floor and thought it was getting awfully hard for me to move and just as I looked down, my boss walked in through the swinging doors from the kitchen to see me standing there...with the broom in my hand....and my uniform pants down around my feet!! I don't know who was more embarrassed, but I was mortified. He quickly did an about face and I retrieved my pants from the floor and refastened my zipper. I quickly finished cleaning and hightailed it home. We never spoke of that day.
I learned so much from that first job. How to manage money, how to deal with a wide variety of people, how to make a milkshake and most importantly....to always, always sew a hook and eye closure at the top of your zipper when you make uniform pants.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Military on my mind
I'm about 9, which would make my brother, Danny, 11. In the yard we've pitched Dad's pup tent and I have a green metal helmet on my head and a military backpack on my back. I'm running as Danny calls out, "HIT THE DIRT!" I do a belly flop into the soft grass and wait for my next command. Danny is the Drill Instructor and I am his recruit. We spend many days playing, what our dad did for real.
I've been a military dependent for 48 of my 56 years. My Dad is a Marine (I'm not going to say he "was" a Marine since they say you never stop being a Marine). He spent 20 years on active duty and retired in 1968.
I met Bob when he was a young Sailor, and when he asked if he could come over to see me, I told him yes as long as he wore his uniform. Something about a military uniform gives me the vapors! Well he wore his uniform and the rest is history. Everything I had learned from being a military brat came in very handy when I married Bob. I was an old pro at moving and understood what was expected of, and in store for, the family of the military member. Bob served 23 1/2 years in the Navy aboard the aircraft carriers Nimitz, Forrestal, Lexington and Enterprise; and shore duty in Patuxent River, MD and Pensacola, FL. We loved Pensacola so much we never left!
Now a new military chapter is starting in our lives as our son, Bobby, has joined the Navy and leaves for boot camp in November. To say we are proud of him is an understatement...you bet your Yankee Doodle Dandy we are!
I will always get a lump in my throat when they play the National Anthem, Taps, the Marine Corps Hymn or Anchors Away. Whenever I can I will stand and salute with my hand over my heart in appreciation for their sacrifice and service...and then I will kneel and pray for their safe return.
I've been a military dependent for 48 of my 56 years. My Dad is a Marine (I'm not going to say he "was" a Marine since they say you never stop being a Marine). He spent 20 years on active duty and retired in 1968.
I met Bob when he was a young Sailor, and when he asked if he could come over to see me, I told him yes as long as he wore his uniform. Something about a military uniform gives me the vapors! Well he wore his uniform and the rest is history. Everything I had learned from being a military brat came in very handy when I married Bob. I was an old pro at moving and understood what was expected of, and in store for, the family of the military member. Bob served 23 1/2 years in the Navy aboard the aircraft carriers Nimitz, Forrestal, Lexington and Enterprise; and shore duty in Patuxent River, MD and Pensacola, FL. We loved Pensacola so much we never left!
Now a new military chapter is starting in our lives as our son, Bobby, has joined the Navy and leaves for boot camp in November. To say we are proud of him is an understatement...you bet your Yankee Doodle Dandy we are!
I will always get a lump in my throat when they play the National Anthem, Taps, the Marine Corps Hymn or Anchors Away. Whenever I can I will stand and salute with my hand over my heart in appreciation for their sacrifice and service...and then I will kneel and pray for their safe return.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Alfred McNair
I love to write poetry and will be sharing them here on my blog. I wrote this is 1992.
Alfred McNair
Alfred McNair
had birds in his hair
they just moved in one day.
"Please leave", he said politely
(they were rather unsightly!)
but the birds would not go away.
He tried every shampoo
even combing them too
he tried sprays, gels and mudpacks.
He teased, squeezed
let his hair blow in the breeze
but the birds just said, "thanks for the bath".
For years they lived there
in Alfred McNair's hair
they seemed so very content.
'Til one afternoon
in the middle of June
they took Alfred's hair and they went.
Alfred McNair
Alfred McNair
had birds in his hair
they just moved in one day.
"Please leave", he said politely
(they were rather unsightly!)
but the birds would not go away.
He tried every shampoo
even combing them too
he tried sprays, gels and mudpacks.
He teased, squeezed
let his hair blow in the breeze
but the birds just said, "thanks for the bath".
For years they lived there
in Alfred McNair's hair
they seemed so very content.
'Til one afternoon
in the middle of June
they took Alfred's hair and they went.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Thinking about cussing
Calm down, I'm not thinking about spicing up my language. I was trying to remember when this swearing free-for-all became commonplace.
I came from a swear-free home. Oh, Dad would let out an H-E-Double Hockey Sticks every now and then, but as a general rule it was not acceptable. I was raised that men did not cuss in front of women and no-one cussed in front of children. I remember fishing at a pond across from our farm with my brother and dad and a convertible pulled over to the side of the road near the pond and the man and woman were swearing up a storm at each other. My father walked over to the car and told the occupants he didn't really care what they did, but they were not going to do it in front of his children. The car pulled away and although I don't remember what they said to each other, I do remember feeling protected and special.
Our children were raised with the understanding that certain words were off limits. I'll never forget the day 5 year old Heather and I had this conversation:
Heather: "Today, Timmy said the 'S' word."
Me: "The 'S' word?"
Heather: "Yes, the 'S' word!" Her eyes growing big.
Me: "What's the 'S' word?"
Heather: "Oh, I can't SAY it!"
Me: "Well, just this once you can tell me and you won't get in trouble." I was really curious as
how she even knew what the 'S' word was.
Heather: With all her innocence, in a soft voice she said..............................."Stupid."
You see, we did not allow that word in our home. It was an ugly word that was better left unsaid, so of course she would be surprised when she heard someone else use that word.
I know, it's only words, what's the big deal? Just because we are able to do something, does not mean we should do it. Words can hurt or words can heal. They can lift you up or tear you down. They are powerful tools, and we should use them wisely.
I have to admit I will probably always be offended by swearing in my presence. If you choose to do it though be careful...Dad may be just around the corner.
I came from a swear-free home. Oh, Dad would let out an H-E-Double Hockey Sticks every now and then, but as a general rule it was not acceptable. I was raised that men did not cuss in front of women and no-one cussed in front of children. I remember fishing at a pond across from our farm with my brother and dad and a convertible pulled over to the side of the road near the pond and the man and woman were swearing up a storm at each other. My father walked over to the car and told the occupants he didn't really care what they did, but they were not going to do it in front of his children. The car pulled away and although I don't remember what they said to each other, I do remember feeling protected and special.
Our children were raised with the understanding that certain words were off limits. I'll never forget the day 5 year old Heather and I had this conversation:
Heather: "Today, Timmy said the 'S' word."
Me: "The 'S' word?"
Heather: "Yes, the 'S' word!" Her eyes growing big.
Me: "What's the 'S' word?"
Heather: "Oh, I can't SAY it!"
Me: "Well, just this once you can tell me and you won't get in trouble." I was really curious as
how she even knew what the 'S' word was.
Heather: With all her innocence, in a soft voice she said..............................."Stupid."
You see, we did not allow that word in our home. It was an ugly word that was better left unsaid, so of course she would be surprised when she heard someone else use that word.
I know, it's only words, what's the big deal? Just because we are able to do something, does not mean we should do it. Words can hurt or words can heal. They can lift you up or tear you down. They are powerful tools, and we should use them wisely.
I have to admit I will probably always be offended by swearing in my presence. If you choose to do it though be careful...Dad may be just around the corner.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Thoughts about Mom
Sometimes I walk past a mirror and catch a glimpse of my Mother. Sometimes it's her voice I hear when I open my mouth. The other day I laughed and it was just like I remembered her laughing. Born in 1914, next year she would have been 100. "I'd like to live to be 100", she'd say. Well Mom, you made it to 90 and that's longer than most.
Mom was 43 when I was born. I was the last of her 6 children and I nearly killed her, so the story goes, from hemorrhaging. Thankfully she didn't die of that...or from all the times I broke her heart through the years. She may have been older than my friends mothers, but she didn't act any different. Always full of fun and adventure.
I remember her in pedal pushers and bobby socks, starched cotton dresses with an apron on when she was cooking, and in her Sunday best with a hat and gloves for Church. She sewed many of her clothes and mine too. She could make an outfit without a pattern, just by looking at a picture in the Sears catalog. She made me dresses out of feed sacks. Before you start imagining I was a hobo in a burlap sack, the feed came in beautiful cotton print material. She sewed clothes for me until I became a teenager and decided homemade clothes were not cool.
She loved to cook and loved her family through her cooking. Wonderful meals every day. There had to be a meat, a starch, one or two vegetables and bread and butter. We always had water with our meals. Kool-Aid and iced tea were for special occasions like picnics, not mealtime.
I remember sitting on her lap in the rocking chair while she sang "The Old Rugged Cross" and "In the Garden", her two favorite hymns. She loved music, singing and dancing. In her retired years she played the washboard in a jug band with other seniors. She loved life.
My Mom is the reason I can sew and cook and love to do both. She's the reason I love aprons and have an apron collection. Her love of God and "starting me off in the way I should go" is a big reason I have a personal relationship with Jesus today. Her adventuresome spirit gave me the courage to learn to scuba dive at 55, and learn sign language and desire to keep learning new things.
Thank you Mom.
Mom was 43 when I was born. I was the last of her 6 children and I nearly killed her, so the story goes, from hemorrhaging. Thankfully she didn't die of that...or from all the times I broke her heart through the years. She may have been older than my friends mothers, but she didn't act any different. Always full of fun and adventure.
I remember her in pedal pushers and bobby socks, starched cotton dresses with an apron on when she was cooking, and in her Sunday best with a hat and gloves for Church. She sewed many of her clothes and mine too. She could make an outfit without a pattern, just by looking at a picture in the Sears catalog. She made me dresses out of feed sacks. Before you start imagining I was a hobo in a burlap sack, the feed came in beautiful cotton print material. She sewed clothes for me until I became a teenager and decided homemade clothes were not cool.
She loved to cook and loved her family through her cooking. Wonderful meals every day. There had to be a meat, a starch, one or two vegetables and bread and butter. We always had water with our meals. Kool-Aid and iced tea were for special occasions like picnics, not mealtime.
I remember sitting on her lap in the rocking chair while she sang "The Old Rugged Cross" and "In the Garden", her two favorite hymns. She loved music, singing and dancing. In her retired years she played the washboard in a jug band with other seniors. She loved life.
My Mom is the reason I can sew and cook and love to do both. She's the reason I love aprons and have an apron collection. Her love of God and "starting me off in the way I should go" is a big reason I have a personal relationship with Jesus today. Her adventuresome spirit gave me the courage to learn to scuba dive at 55, and learn sign language and desire to keep learning new things.
Thank you Mom.
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